


Heat.

by Innu



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Almost 9k of sex, Anal Sex, Angst, Anxiety, Bottom morty, C137cest, Defiant Morty, Gay Sex, Incest, Lots of swearing., M/M, Mentions of possible rape, Mixed feelings, Morty is 16, Morty is the initiator, Multiple Pov, OW., Rick and Morty - Freeform, Small amount of Aftercare, Soft Rick, Space Aphrodisiac, Spaceship Sex, Swearing, Top Rick, aphrodisiac, hurt comfort, oh no, space pollen, very explicit, victim crisis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2019-08-08 22:11:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16437752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Innu/pseuds/Innu
Summary: Morty has been a little more defiant than usual, doing what he wants testing his own path but this time it leads him to disaster and once again Rick is the only one who can fix it.*The aftermath* is now included.Morty awakens in his bed to find himself covered in mysterious bruises and little to no memory of why and how.  D





	1. Heat

**Author's Note:**

> Lord. I have been trying to write this for MONTHS. Lol, anyways, Sorry about the long ass delays in my writing. I hope everyone is well and everyone enjoys my trash!~~ 
> 
> Going to be adding some chapters to this. (May get a little bit darker toward the next couple chapters.)
> 
> **NOT BETA'D** 
> 
> I respond to all comments/ and appreciate all kudos!

It was everywhere, in his mouth, on his shirt; he could even taste it. The gas spread like an explosion, clouding the air, dangling from the twisted and mangled plants nearby. Everything around Morty including himself was stained a rusty crimson. He couldn't quite bring himself to comprehend what had happened, so on the ground he remained with his palms back to brace himself. He coughed once or twice before a string of colorful curses escaped him. 

Morty was still in shock; the alien had blasted him good with that neuro-gas gun. It wouldn't be long now before he was melting from the inside out and he would have to hear Rick sigh about it. 

God, he had really screwed up this time. 

Morty brushed his hands along his shirt never-minding the way the "gas", which was more of a refined power, dyed his fingers in the way paint would. Morty could see the heavy globs of particles that clung thick enough to make red stains on his yellow shirt, but this was more of a quick observation though as he squinted through the heavy waft of cloud which had already began dissipate. Morty had things more important to focus on, like Rick and his inevitable disappointment in him. 

Morty looked around attempting to locate his grandfather or at least the alien who shot him in the first place. His hands though continued wiping away what still clung, waving in front of his face, anything to clear the gas away before the onset of effects took place. 

The dust parted a bit more and Morty sucked in another breath. He was expecting to be in excruciating pain by now, but there was nothing and that, if anything, strange. There were no effects. Morty felt fine. In fact nothing immediate seemed to be happening at all and that gave Morty hope that maybe Rick had been wrong and that all of his talking in the ship had been just to scare him. It sounded like something Rick would do. Rick could be a real prick at times. 

His anxiety was already beginning to sky rocket and every particle in his body was telling him to run to Rick but he waited the fear for the most part keeping him rooted. Frankly Morty knew nothing about neuro-gas or how it worked or what would even happen if he tried to move. He had already breathed in more than enough of it to know that it was inside of him. Hell, he had been blasted in the face with it, so there was no escaping the after-effects now. 

In short, he was screwed.

His heart beat was tapping erratically in his chest and whether that was a side effect or anxiety Morty had yet to determine. So, Morty waited, waited until the dust cleared completely and Rick would come to him yelling about what an idiot he was.  
He should have listened. 

Already Morty had been breathing in the gas in large gulps as the panic began to set in. The longer Morty waited the more his anxiety peaked. He was beyond panic, unsure if he was about to melt or possibly even worse from the stories Rick had been telling him on the flight over. 

A barrage of, "Oh jeeze, oh man-" thoughts filled his head as he attempted to settle his breathing pattern into something significantly less than hyperventilating but that was a trial in and of its own.

In the string of his overthinking, he began to wonder how long it was going to be or when the initial melting was going to begin. God, Morty was never one who enjoyed prolonging anything, let alone his inevitable death. 

Morty scanned the horizon again. He could barely see anything as the wind kicked the last of the gas before him, leaving him momentarily blinded, alone and afraid. He wanted to listen for Rick but the thundering of his heart beat in his ears was all he could hear and then it began to happen; it started as a tight tingling in his throat before it erupted into heat. Morty choked as he shuffled on his hands and knees, his fingers threading into the sandy dirt. Now he was coughing hard, the last of the noxious gas leaving, parting enough to see Rick chasing off the last of the alien threats. 

This was stupid. Morty would have never been in this situation had he just listened to his grandfather but he didn't. He never did and now he was going to die painfully and for what? 

Morty coughed even dry heaving a bit as it began to feel like the dust was crawling down into his lungs and spreading through him. Things would have been easier if he would have never agreed to go on this stupid mission but there was no going back now. 

Not many hours ago the pair had landed on a distant planet right outside of their solar system. It had been a rather lengthy drive but anything beat the silence at home. 

There was war between Rick and his family and all Morty wanted was there to be peace again. His mother was back on his dad's side determining that Rick no longer had domain over their household, not that was a bad thing. But to Rick , however, it was the beginning of something much worse, a shift in power and he was never a man who liked to lose. His plots to go on adventures were becoming more dangerous and less thought out. It was almost as if Rick was an impudent child acting out his aggressions on something weaker and Morty, however remained the catalyst. However He would never say no to his grandfather because he knew despite everything he was the last glimmer of hope in Rick's dark world and somewhere in Morty's world, Rick was that untouchable god, the all-knowing figure his father never managed to be. 

Like always Morty had just agreed and off they went on another Rick and Morty adventure that would more or likely have him killed or worse and considering the current situation, definitely worse.

The planet was not a very large one or particularly pretty. It was one comprised of mainly desert land and a backward type of alien who were renowned for their neuro-gases. They had the ability to make a gas out of anything and Rick had the ability of wanting to take anything that wasn't his. Sure, he could probably make his own and it would have more than likely been a million times better but why would he do that? He could just take it from someone else.

Honestly, Morty knew hindsight was 20/20 but the time for reflection had long since passed at this point. Rick was already turning back, looking angrier than ever and empty handed which seemed to be the worst out of everything that was happening. 

Was this really how he was going to die, in a desert on some alien planet because his grandfather was too lazy, no, too angry to deal with his emotions properly to make something that would have taken him literally seconds and avoided this?

Morty's throat was burning and his fingers moved up gripping at the flesh lightly, touching as it felt like his skin was melting off from the inside. The sun began to set over the planet and despite the soft cool which seem to build, Morty felt as if he were on fire. His fingers burned, his legs and throat, everything, but it wasn't nearly as excruciating as he would imagine being melted from the inside out would be and he had seen that more than a few times.

Rick watched the rest of the aliens retreat with a frown. He knew something was amiss when Morty's loud screeching had died down and the aliens that he, himself were following began high-fiving. Shit, he should have known that Morty was going to do everything but what was asked of him and here Rick was STILL expected to save the day. 

He gazed across the way slightly frowning when he came to find Morty gagging and choking on the ground. A part of him said to feel sorry for him that he was just a boy, but another part of him said there were thousands of other Morty's and this one was a pain in the ass. 

Rick walked slowly toward his grandson who by the minute could be melting from the inside out. He took his time, the frown on his face extending more and more as the grunts and groans from the sixteen year old were nothing but a sadistic "I told you you so." to Rick. Even so he continued finding the will to be sympathetic leaving him with every step. 

Fuck, he should have just brought Summer.

Morty gagged again, ignoring the sound of Rick's heavy foot steps coming beside him. He already knew what was going to happen.

"Ugh- Morty. " Rick swore as he made his way up to him only his long legs in view of the boy on the ground. "I told you didn't I? I said, I said, Morty, get behind me. Get behind me, Morty, they have neuro-gas, Morty. You never fucking listen and now look at you." Rick was a little less paternal than he would have liked to pretend but he didn't know how many times he had to reiterate the same point to the same boy and trust him, he reiterated. Rick had said it before they left. He had said it as they were leaving. He said it in the damn ship and fuck knows how many times while they were fighting that he had told Morty to hang back because of the neuro-gas, but here they were and who knows what's going to happen.

Rick contemplated leaving Morty there to die for the third time since he began over toward his writhing grandson but STILL began to withdraw a machine he had made before they left. It was a simple one that determined the factors of the gas and the risk they posed. He had made this because he knew, KNEW that somehow, someway Morty was going to get hurt and he would need to find a cure or at least know what they were dealing with. 

This was a lot of work and honestly he could always find another Morty, even if this one was his.

Morty could barely hear his grandfather's words as he leaned forward the burn in his throat spreading through his chest with a sweet, a sickeningly sweet taste that made him want to gag. It was close to eating liquid sugar but it moved like pure fire, settling in him with a glow that caused his arms and legs to tingle relentlessly. 

There was something strangely familiar about this feeling, something that reminded him of when he was alone at night in his room, thinking about Jess-

Morty dry heaved again, his words gargled in what felt like glue in his mouth. 

Fuck- He should have listened. He should have just did what Rick said but then again, maybe if Rick would just stop taking them on pointless adventures he would never have to almost die in the first place. 

Rick's legs were pacing in his peripheral vision but his voice was hazy and far away, still ranting, still bitching about what a disappointment Morty was and that he could have just brought Summer. Summer never would have gotten herself killed, Summer wouldn't be like this. 

Rick was cursing up a storm and for the thirtieth time now he was telling himself to just leave him. He'll find another.  
Morty groaned. 

"God dammit, Morty-" Rick suddenly growled as he dropped down into a crouch beside his grandson, his lips pulled into a tight unreadable frown. "You never fucking- You don't listen. I should just let you- let you die, Morty." 

His teeth were gritting even harder now, as now the fortieth time that Rick considered the possibility of jumping ship went through him, but he sighed as he reached out and gently touched Morty's hand. It was quick though, an effort of care which was short lived.

To Morty, Rick's voice faded out again as he now allowed his arms to give out beside him. He fell flat to the ground allowing small puff of dust come up from beneath him. Morty wasn't hurt, he wasn't bleeding. Hell, those aliens hadn't even come close to touching him and yet he was the one dying? 

Fuck Rick, if he hadn't even brought them to this planet for god knows what he wouldn't even be dying. 

Morty wanted to frown. He wanted to retort and tell Rick that he was an asshole and consequently it was still his fault that this was happening, that this ALWAYS happened to him, but he just closed his eyes as the sickeningly sweet burn settled in his stomach. It didn't seem to hurt as much, instead it festered and boiled inside of him like a fever. 

He was hot, so fucking hot. 

Rick was still complaining, waving some kind of mystical machine he no doubt made in a second over his boiling body, trailing it a few feet above him as he leaned down closer into Morty's space, closer to read that monitor on the screen and frown. 

Morty could smell Rick just the smallest tad, the soft barely there scent of aftershave, deodorant and the much more prevalent wash of alcohol which was so bluntly Rick. He hated that the burn in him heightened for a second, only to die back down as Rick moved back staring down at the small little screen.

"I tell you all the damn time, Mor-" 

It's like Morty's blood was thundering through his ear drums, the heat washing over him to his toes. He was so hot and everything was beginning to tingle. He couldn't hear anything Rick was saying as his focus was on the way that sickeningly sweet heat spread through his stomach and throbbed. 

Was Rick still yelling at him? Was Rick still complaining that he wasn't as great of a partner as Summer? 

Morty managed to weakly look up from the ground and up toward his Grandfather whose mouth was slightly agape, his eyes wide. A little bit of queasy fear washed over Morty but it was nothing to battle that intense heat which burned his core. 

"What-" Morty breathed, attempting to pushing himself up but Rick's hand pushed against his back refusing to allow him.

Rick's face was unreadable beneath the milky haze that pulsed before Morty's eyes but Rick was still silent, his face a little paler than usual. 

Was he going to die?

Fear told Morty to sit up. It told him to move. He needed to look at his grandfather's face more clearly. he needed answers.  
Rick once again reached out stopping him from moving, his frown eminent and extremely displeased. "Don't move, Morty." He spoke, gruffly, no longer condescending. It was frightening, more frightening than knowing that he had fucked up enough to warrant a tongue lashing. No, this was ten times worse, he had done something that was causing his grandfather to be worried and Rick was never worried. 

"Rick-" Morty tried again, his voice a little stronger. It was strange almost as if he were gaining some sort of strength back, as if he could move again, perhaps the effects were only temporary and Rick was wron-

"Don't speak, Morty." Rick suddenly grumbled as he was looking down at the machine, analyzing whatever readings it said. His face grew darker, more frustrated. 

Rick glanced down at his grandson only allowing one more huff to escape his lips. Morty's wide eyes met his but the first time in years Morty listened and stayed flat and silent as Rick worked. A slight thrill of satisfaction went through Rick but it was no time to feed his ego. 

"Good Boy." Rick breathed, turning his gaze back down to the black and beeping machine. Despite everything, Morty was still a nuisance but he was sadly his nuisance. 

The machine's readings were off the charts, the gas was apparently made with all sorts of components all of which Rick was too lazy to list in his head, but there was one of them that stuck out. It was a pollen type extract that was founded from an indigenous plant in the right hemisphere of this planet. The pollen had trippy effects when placed with other gases but this combination made for something even worse.

Rick's face clouded over as he closed his eyes trying to draw in a breath. Morty was going to be in for a ride and Rick too if he didn't find a solution fast. He shifted his gaze momentarily to Morty, judging by the rate of effect, the gas had no doubt began its shift through his body. 

He would be feeling the full on effects soon, but things always seemed to get better before they got worse. 

Morty's vision was beginning to clear, in fact the fever seemed to be the only thing that remained. Sure, it made him hot, a little dizzy but the other effects were beginning to lessen. 

He sat up, pulling himself to sit on the dusty and dirty ground cross-legged. He stared at his grandfather intensely. "Look, I feel better-"

Rick's eyes snapped upward and they widened. "I told you not- Look, Morty- What- You never listen to me, Morty. I say, Don't move, you move. I say, Don't speak, you speak. Morty, do you ever- You never..." He took a deep slow breath. "We-we need to get home, M-Morty or do you wanna keep- just keep disobeying until the gas screws you up completely?"

Rick rose with that as if what he said was final and Morty frowned standing up too. He didn't understand why his grandfather was so pissed off about him moving but then expected him to just get up and get to the ship. 

Fuck- Wouldn't that ruin everything as well? Wasn't that disobeying Rick's orders before?

Rick was already trudging back to where they had left their ship. He was mumbling loudly to himself and Morty only found his name audible when he did. From a distance, Rick was complaining to the machine but as usual not giving him any sort of warning or clue as to why he had a sudden and obvious mood shift. 

Could Rick's shift mean something worse than dying? Morty attempted to think about it but all he could imagine was being home, alone and in his bed. He just wanted this mission to be over, he just wanted this heat off of his body.

He walked slowly, the fire which fanned through him seeming to pulse. It beat through all of his limbs, tingling again in his fingertips and toes. Morty didn't understand it but once again it felt familiar, a little too familiar, like when he touched himself. That tingly, build up of aching pleasure as he drove himself to-

The ship was a good distance away but Rick made there first, sure enough to turn and look back at Morty exasperatedly. "Let's go, Morty! We don't have- let's go. It's only going to get worse." He motioned to the side of the ship as he walked around climbing in quickly. 

Morty quickened his pace as he came closer to the ship and without complaint he opened in and pulled himself inside. Morty reached back buckling himself but not before taking a large inhale inward as he felt winded from the half-jog over.

That was a mistake. 

As the breath came inward everything in Morty's brain stopped working and every bit of blood made a b-line for his dick. It smelled like Rick, everything, every single molecule of air lingered as if it were crafted by Rick's hands. 

Morty could smell the waft of aftershave, the glide of deodorant and the bitter taste of store-bought booze. It struck him, knocked him back and flattened him like a steam roller. His heart kicked into overdrive and the only sound which escaped him was that of air deflating from a balloon. Morty's breath hitched and he let out a strangled cry as the first painful throb pulsated through his instantly-hardened dick. He seized forward, his upper body collapsing over his knees as he let out a low groan.  
"Ri-Rick." He panted between each syllable, it sliding of his tongue like honey. He curled himself downward tighter, "Ri-Ric-Rick, What's- oh god, Rick, What's, fuck, What's happening?" Morty's voice was climbing octaves as once again Rick's smell took him for another ride rendering his thought process shit. 

"Fuck-" Rick hissed as he looked over at Morty. "What the- What did I- I told you, Morty. It's the neuro-gas, alright, Morty. It's an aphrodisiac, one of the strongest I've ever seen. It's gonna fuck you up until you get- well.." Rick looked forward, "Don't worry, Morty, we'll stop somewhere. It's only gonna get worse from here on out. I told you not to move but you don't listen, had to speed up the process, now you ruined it for the both of us." 

Morty groaned as the ship lifted clunkily from the ground and the urge to ram his hands down his pants right then and there came slamming through his brain. It was there a nagging, begging thought in the forefront of his mind. His thighs were shaking, trembling as his feet bobbed up and down. 

He was so hard it hurt. 

Morty just needed to breathe, to thinking things through to try and not imagine his own hand pushing into his jeans, gripping his cock and-

He needed to think of something else, to focus on the planet falling away behind them, on where Rick was taking them. Anything but fucking into his own hand as he breathed in the scent of his grandfather. His same grandfather that would have no other choice but to watch as he was pumping his own-

Morty arched, groaning and shifting a bit before attempting to cover up the obvious growing bulge in his pants. Wave after wave of burning desire coursed through him like fire, no like the ocean as it crash hard into him time and time again causing him to reel painfully. 

How did this change so fast? How did the smell of Rick trigger this sudden and intense wave of lust within him? What the hell did this even mean? Morty's mind was rapid firing questions faster than he could process answers but only a few became vocalized as he took the high road of anger rather than questioning his sudden sexual interest in his mother's father. 

"Fuck, Rick, why didn't you- Why didn't you tell me sooner, huh, Ri- Rick? Why didn't you just, you know, tell me? Is that why- Did you know? Were we here so you could get some FUCKING sex drug?!" Morty cried out suddenly as the pieces seemed to come together despite his mind mainly being focused on the throb of his dick. 

He was sweating, his mouth opening as small pants puffed out. Morty's hips were practically lifting in the chair. 

It was this smell, this scent of Rick that was damn near causing him to dry-hump the seat. 

Fuck. 

Morty couldn't breathe. 

Rick was trying his best to remain silent through all of this, to pretend as if he didn't see Morty squirming like a cat in heat all over the seat next to him. Morty's smell was intoxicating, that of sweet flowers that wafted from his very sweat. 

He had to grip the steering wheel, to focus on getting Morty anywhere but in this tight space between them. Rick was by all means a man of intelligence but he wasn't a man of delaying any sort of gratification and if Morty kept panting beside him, speaking to him in that sexual voice, he didn't know what he would do. 

Rick needed to calm down himself. He needed to just focus on a destination, a near by red-light district where he could find Morty quick lay.  
Morty whined as he struggled in his chair, struggled to keep his hips down and his hands up. His eyes turned onto Rick, heavy lidded but still waiting for an answer. 

"Well?-" Morty panted, a grunt leaving him as he shifted upward into the chair, ignoring the sweat which slid down his spine.  
Still though, Rick seemed to ignore him but after a minute or so he finally glanced over. Anger or something else glinted in his eyes as he shot a glare toward Morty. "What the hell would have telling you sooner done, Morty? What you think you would have magically been able to keep your dick from becoming hard? Th-that you could have prevented yourself from becoming a little slut if I said something, Morty? And no, I didn't fucking know it was some kind of aphrodisiac, Morty. We weren't coming here to get some kind of magic sex drug. I don't need a drug to turn people on or to get it hard; My dick works perfectly fine, Morty."  
Rick's eyebrow quirked smugly as he passed side eyes at his grandson, there was almost a hint of a challenge within that look before he turned it back to the space before them. He honestly needed to settle down, to take another breath and relax. 

Why was he egging Morty on like this? Talking about his dick to his grandson, not that that had never happened before but in this context it was a little...incestuous? 

He was white knuckling the steering wheel, questioning himself now. He was about an inch away from pulling over somewhere and- Fuck, why didn't they just take the portal gun? Why did things always have to be hard like this?

Morty groaned, the picture that painted in his mind far too vivid to be anything but lewd. "Rick- You asshole, don't, don't talk like that. Aw man, it hurts so bad, Rick." His thigh lifted as he dropped his hands down between his legs to grip the leather seat in front of him. "I- I don't think I'm going to make it, Rick. I can't- I need to- " His panting breath came out clipped, desperate and his voice was raw. 

Morty was dropping his head back against the stiff leather seat, his hips lifting once again to effortlessly grind himself against his too tight jeans. 

This was fucked and in front of his grandfather too. 

The ache came harder that time, dribbling precome from his tip and staining the front of his dark blue skinny jeans. A low moan escaped Morty and he made an effort not to question why the thought of touching himself in front of his grandfather made him want to come or worse, but maybe even more concerning was the very thought of Rick getting off on him touching himself made precum leak out. 

Would Rick touch himself too? Would he reach over and-

A breath sucked in through Rick's teeth alerting Morty suddenly. He looked over, taking in the way Rick held fast the leather wheel, his fingers no doubt embedding prints into it. Morty's thighs shook at the thought of those fingers embedding into his own thighs, gripping and bruising the flesh-

A soft moan stuttered from his pink lips and Morty's head fell back again. 

"Settle- Fuck, Morty, just settle down. We'll- We'll stop soon. I know it hurts. We'll find you someone, anyone." Rick offered, his voice sounding rough, huskier than usual but Morty played it off as his lust addled mind playing tricks on him. 

They had to stop anywhere, somewhere. Rick had to get him out of this car. Reaching down into the compartment on his side, he pulled out a GPS, it was one he had created for interstellar travel but it was the first time he had ever used it. 

Who would have thought its first purpose would be getting his grandson laid and away from him?

Rick began to type in some coordinates before setting it down and listening to a voice telling him to head east and that they would reach their destination within the hour. Already he was cursing himself. They should have left earlier, they never should have gone and at this rate, he might fuck his grandson. 

"It'll- it'll be fine, Morty, we'll- It's gonna be an hour. A real nice place, Morty, lots of hot- Uh- good looking- You'll be fine, Morty. Think calm thoughts." 

What the fuck was Rick even spewing? Fuck if Morty could think anything outside of touching his own cock. 

Morty groaned as he leaned his head back against the chair once again, his hips lifting and his legs spreading before tightly closing once more. Fuck- he needed something so bad, he just needed some pressure on his cock and he could come, he could come right there. 

"Ric- Rick, god, please, No, I can't wait. I can't wait until we get somewhere." Morty was begging, his mouth opening to allow the tiniest bit of saliva to fall from the corner of his lips and down his chin. "Please, please, Rick-"

The cab was silent, not that Morty was honestly listening for an answer. His hips where lifting effortlessly now, rutting against both of his own arms. Morty's head twisted against the chair as he let out small moans sprinkled with Rick's name sewed into the breathless sounds. 

Rick was driving fast, faster than they had ever driven. His knuckles were bloodless and strained as he clutched the steering-wheel even harder. He began to alternate between gripping and releasing, the only thing that was keeping him from reaching across and lending Morty a hand or a dick.

What the fuck was even that drug? What was it doing to Rick? Holy shit- Morty smelled like nothing Rick had ever come close to liking before. He smelled delicious, like Rick wanted to take him into his mouth and-

Morty's moans and pants filled the space easily while the sound of him shifting in his seat music to a nearly defeated man.  
"It's gonna be- Morty, just- just breathe."

"Forty- four minutes until destination." The machine spoke monotonously and Rick wished for everything he had that he had just once decided to take them somewhere safer. 

He was holding his breath now and when he wasn't doing that he was sucking it in through his teeth as if it were some kind of filter but he could still taste Morty. The scent filling his mouth pungently and sliding down his throat. 

It wasn't going to take much time for the gas to take over. Rick while not being completely versed in Alien aphrodisiac neuro-gas, knew quite a bit about the pollen himself. Why the hell wouldn't he? Anything to do with sex, Rick was there. This particular pollen mixed with the chemicals it was had almost a mind-control effect. Soon enough Morty would enter a state of complete unaware and if Rick wasn't careful (or lucky) he would be the target. 

They needed to make this time faster but the ship was already floored and Rick was inwardly berating himself for making such a piece of shit. 

"It's going to be okay." Rick comforted Morty, his voice lower, careful with his words as the boy was obviously struggling, whining at the pleasure. "It's- shit, Morty, it's okay." He wanted to reach out and touch his grandson but he knew that would only bring him more pain-

He had to be smart about this. Rick had to just focus on the space in front of them.

It wasn't until they were a solid ten minutes away from the planet destination that Morty was completely lost. His voice had been climbing octaves and his whines were desperate as he ground himself time and time again into his own palm. Rick at that point had tried his best to keep his eyes forward but the scent combined with the sound of Morty touching himself, had his own cock straining to be free. 

For what seemed like forever Morty had been struggling, but now all was silent and Morty was still, his breath coming out in grunted pants as he turned meeting eyes with Rick's. 

His pupils were huge, dilated, blown out while his lips were open and panting. Rick wanted to reassure Morty again but all he could do was stare as Morty's small pink tongue pushed from his mouth and traced his lips seductively. 

"Morty-" Rick swallowed, "We're almost there, just-" His words began to stutter in his brain as Morty made work of his seat belt, unclasping it and then turning to him. "Morty- Less than ten minutes now. You- You can see the- the planet, Morty." He took a second to glance back to the windshield only to find that Morty had crawled closer, traversing the center console and reaching for him. 

Shit- Rick took in a shaky breath and loaded a protest that died on his lips at Morty's words. 

"Rick- You smell..." Morty breathed, his eyes watching his own hands which crept over Rick's left thigh. "You smell so good, Rick. I- I love the way you smell." A coy smile crossed his lips as he moved closer, obviously startling the older man who looked down at that hand on his thigh and then back up at Morty. 

"Whoa- Morty, I'm- I'm your-" Rick attempted, his eyes shooting back and forth between the wind shield and Morty. "We're almost th-" He hissed out, he too staring down at that hand that was coming a little too close to the outline of his hard dick. 

Rick loaded another protest, this one sure to force out. He was Morty's grandfather. He was an old man. Morty wasn't ready for this. Fuck, he wasn't even ready for this. 

That sly little hand was now massaging into Rick's thigh, thoughtfully squeezing the flesh and Rick forgot again what he was protesting against. His own legs beginning to open as his dick twitched to be touched. 

God, Morty practically had him jizzing his pants and he hadn't even touched his dick.

"I know what you are, Rick." Morty laughed suddenly as he slid his hand from his thigh to the hard and thick bulge which was so evidently lined in Rick's brown slacks. "But for someone who is just my grandfather and Oh so against my hand touching your-, "Morty smirked as he feasted his eyes on Rick's bulge, "y-you sure are hard." He shuffled a little closer, his eyes peering up at the older man through thick black eyelashes. "Do I turn you on, Grandpa Rick?" He breathed it as his fingers brushed along the bulge pushing into it and testing the girth and weight of it. 

Rick groaned, his head dropping back against the seat. They were so close, this was so avoidable and yet- 

Thin fingers traced the head of his cock through Rick's pants wetting the cloth with the glob of precum which dribbled out. Morty's eyes only widened beneath Rick's scrutiny, tracing his thumb over the growing wet spot, his tongue dancing his lips. 

Morty's thought process had stopped now. it was now just a hazy want and Rick was the object of that want. His brain screamed it over and over again and that was, "Fuck me, fuck me, Rick, Fuck me." and Morty had never wanted anything more.

"Morty, you don't-" Rick began only his words becoming swallowed as Morty moved down and brushed his cheek along the ever hardening erection. 

"What's wrong, Rick? You don't like it?" he breathed, as he nuzzled once more into Rick's cock brushing his baby soft cheek against it through those brown slacks once more. Morty never-minded the wet sticky spot which brushed the corner of his mouth as he slacked his lips just a little with a part.

Rick stiffened, his breath sucking in once more through his teeth as he began to question where exactly this confident little shit had been hiding all of his life.

"Morty-" He panted, his thighs lifting, not enjoying the teasing no more than he was sure Morty liked the persuading. 

Morty panted slightly, his face turning as he rubbed his chin against it and looked up at Rick with those wide eyes of his. "Don't you want your cock in my mouth, Rick? I could take it in until I couldn't fit any more, swallow it back until you fuck into my throa-"  
"Shit, Morty." Rick panted, suddenly stopping the ship immediately, leaving them adrift through the emptiness of space. The machine stuttered something about two minutes to destination but Rick's mind had already been made up. 

"You don't- You need to- fuck." Rick's own eyes were wide as he stared down at Morty, his 16 year old grandson who was looking up at him from his dick. His pink tongue brushed across his lips before laving across that ever obvious wet spot which had grown more prominent at Morty's dirty mouth.

"I want that for you, Rick. Your cock in my mouth as I-" Morty breathed looking down at Rick's bulge once more and then he moved to open his pants. With quick work, Morty began to impatiently pull down Rick's undergarments but just enough to peer at the beginning of his thick cock. "You're so big, Rick, ugh- Oh god, Rick, you're so fucking big." His ass lifted as if he were in heat and then lowered back down. He reached into the older man's underwear and pants fishing his mass from inside. 

Rick was helpless to watch, his eyes narrowing down on Morty with a little bit of shock and awe. It definitely wasn't the first time someone had complimented his cock but it was the first time for his grandson to do so. 

Using his small thin hands, Morty lined Rick's cock up with the front of his face, his eyes closely traveling up the length of him as if he were counting inch by inch. Morty's tongue gently came out to lick across his own lips once again never-minding the way his tongue ghosted the underside of Rick's dick ever so lightly, almost teasingly. 

"Fuck-" Rick breathed as he too was beginning to unravel his legs opening as bit more only to find the pants constricting. He lifted easily, hastily, pulling them off and moving Morty back who whined in protest. "Just- Just get in front of me, Morty. " Rick commanded, his voice lost in a throaty growl as he pointed at the wide empty space between his legs. "Now."

He had already made up his mind. There was no fucking way he was going to go down on that planet and hand his grandson off to some whore when he could just fix it himself. 

Morty's ass wiggled and Rick groaned. 

He liked fixing things himself and Morty was his. Fuck, that was a weird ass thing to say and especially about his daughter's son but he was beyond caring at this point. The neuro-gas inside of Morty made him irresistible and Rick saw no other solution than this.

A smile crafted itself across the pretty boy's saliva wet lips as he obeyed without hesitation and with a eagerness that almost made Rick say fuck the blow job, but he figured this would be the best of any situation. He wasn't exactly into the idea of fucking his grandson senseless but at the same time he didn't dislike the idea. It was better than some alien bitch or bastard getting handsy with him. 

Morty was his. 

Morty belonged to Rick. 

As if it were a period to his thought Morty's small hand wrapped around the base of his cock, easily making the pink, pulsating member look like a monster in such a delicate gasp but Morty didn't seem to mind. His mouth opened wantonly as he lolled his tongue out to taste Rick's swollen head tracing the small slit with the tip of his tongue. He did this time and time again, each flick causing Rick to flinch and grip the steering wheel before him. 

"Holy shit- Mort- Morty." Rick panted, comparing this to every other blow job he had ever received and finding them all lacking. But this- this inexperienced, awkward moment was by far the most stimulating and aroused Rick had felt. 

He needed more and as if reading his mind, Morty began lapping, trailing his tongue up and down in quick stripes cleaning away all and any precum which may or may not have fallen down the shaft. Rick was lost in the sensation, his thigh muscles clenching and releasing as he began to consider putting his cock some where else but Morty's sounds were beginning to distract him, edging him closer to coming. 

His hums were hypnotic, intoxicating and the gentle blush on his cheeks almost endearing if it weren't for Rick's cock in his stroking and pumping hands and open mouth. Rick's eyes locked on the way Morty worshiped him, the way saliva dribbled from the corners of his mouth and down his chin. 

He nearly groaned, nearly gripped Morty's face and made him-

"R-rick- I-I can't, I can't- I need..." Morty was begging around Rick, between licks, not even giving himself a chance to speak as he pulled Rick's cock into his mouth swallowing it back shallowly. "I-I- R-Rithk- mm-Fu-" His words were garbled, broken from the length he stuffed back into his face time and time again hitting the back of his throat and yet still begging for more. 

Morty looked beautiful. His eyes teared in the corner as his lips stretched in a sloppy O that could put any porn star to shame. Morty's moans grunted out as he hollowed his cheeks, sucking. Wet slurps filled the small cab and never in his life had Rick been so turned on, so aroused by anything. His cock throbbed and he swore to himself again that he was going to come if the boy didn't slow down or at least shut up. 

"Fuck- wait- Ugh- Wait, Mo-Morty." he groaned, his hands coming down to entwine into the boy's hair, gripping to pull him back with a wet pop. Rick looked down to see Morty's slack jaw, his eyes still feasting on the throbbing cock before him as if he were just waiting to be released. "Morty, let's just- let me just..." Rick didn't know what he was trying to say. Let him just fuck Morty? let him breathe? 

The look which passed Morty's face was a pout as his eyebrows lowered, "But I want it, Rick, I want to taste your-" Rick covered Morty's mouth promptly.

"That's- Look Morty, The only way to stop the gas is to be- well, you need-" He pushed Morty's hand away which came outward as to grab his cock again. "Look, Morty, you need to be fucked. Let me just-" 

He would definitely lose his shit if Morty's mouth went back on his cock . He needed to think this through, logically. Rick was a man of science and he didn't want to prolong this longer than necessary. 

Rick didn't know what he was expecting when he said that. A look of horror maybe, shock definitely not that of Morty rising and unbuttoning his pants. 

"You're just- okay." Rick spoke watching as Morty stepped out of his pants. His cock jutting forward and leaking wetly from its proud seat against the boy's stomach. Rick tried his best to ignore the way to twitched as if begging to be touched, bobbing tantalizingly before him and just told himself to focus on the mechanics of it. He was a man of-

Morty moved back in front of Rick but instead of standing, he straddled his lap his hips sliding forward until he sandwiched his own cock between Rick's stomach and his own. A moan bubbled up from the boy and his hips trembled as he attempted to lower himself downward. He was uncoordinated but Rick didn't allow him to get to far down before gripping his hips. 

Morty's smell wafted upward flooding Rick's nose and he trembled. Rick's fingers embedded deep into the boy's thighs squeezing and tightening until a small yelp escaped Morty. He flinched and looked up. He was expecting to see him pouting, angry but instead lust was pooled within the depths of Morty's eyes. Rick stared up, frightened by how much Morty's face reflected his own and not for the first time, his hand reached up gripping Morty by the back of the head. Morty didn't struggle when Rick pulled him downward into the kiss, no rather he yielded and submit as if he were waiting for it. 

Rick's moaned into the kiss enjoying a little too much the taste of himself on Morty's lips and tongue, enjoying too much the way Morty was kissing his back, grinding his leaking member against his clothed stomach. 

Was he going crazy? 

The smell was stronger, almost putrid as the sweet seemed to drip from the very saliva in Morty's mouth. 

Morty was unrelenting as he gripped Rick's face back thrusting his tongue into the older man's mouth, pushing and coaxing.  
"Ugh- Fu-fuck." Rick groaned, finally breaking the kiss panting, again chalking this up to another set of things he thought he would never do in his life time. Fuck, this was wrong on so many levels. This was worse than when they cronenberg'ed the whole town and at least they could escape that but there was no escaping this. 

Morty whined as he attempted to seat himself once again only to find Rick's hands grasping at the younger boys hips more firmly. It was a stupid of Rick to have second thoughts but Rick was the adult here and this was still his grandson. The right thing to do would be to ride it out but there was no doubt neither of them would make it home. 

"Please, Rick- Rick, Uh- oh god, please, just- I just-" Morty's small hands were reaching down once again feeling for Rick's cock which obviously reflected none of his new found morals. Morty's fingers brushed the length but only for a second before Rick tightened his hold on the boy's thighs. 

"Morty- this is..." Rick didn't know what he was going to say; he just had Morty's hands and mouth on his cock, not even to mention the kiss HE initiated. How do you say you feel like something may be wrong but you wanna do it anyways? 

"Rick, please, just fuck me. Oh god, I need it so badly." His whimpers complimented the way Morty's thighs trembled beneath Rick's grasp and Rick resigned himself to giving in. Whatever happened after this he would take full responsibility afterward, not that any of this would have happened if Morty would have just heeded his word.

Sliding his hand up the boy's thigh and releasing his hold Rick conceded. Instantly Morty fell down against Rick's lap his bare ass gyrating into it as if he had no control but he continued. 

Rick's breath instantly hitched as he resisted gripping a hold once more. Despite wanting to let go, give in, Rick found he had some restraint left in him but it was dwindling which each and every swivel of the boy's seemingly expert hips. He would need to ask him about that later. 

"Please, Rick." Morty's breath suddenly passed into Rick's ear as his grip slipped from Morty's thighs and the boy lowered himself slowly. "Just- please, Rick..." His fingers reached down searching to grip Rick's cock and position it at his slick and dripping entrance, a gift of the aphrodisiac. 

Once Morty had a hold of Rick's dick he brought his hips downward, using his knees to support himself on either side of Rick's seat. It didn't take long for Morty to begin his ministrations, to bring his hips downward until Rick could bathe in the heat which emanated from Morty's ass. Instantly the tip of Rick's cock rubbed enticingly against Morty's hole, each gentle swipe bringing Rick's hips upward and a loud moan from the boy's tossed back head. 

His trembling fingers rubbed Rick's head a little harder, a little deeper, until his hole began to slowly and greedily envelope it. Rick shuddered, his eye closing as he grit his teeth, what little bit of resolve smoking out of him with each huff of his own breath. Rick had never in his life been a man about delaying gratification when he was a man who made gratification. He was a fucking god, an all knowing fucking master of his own universe and he was unraveling before a sixteen year old who was going through a defiance streak. 

Morty attempted to grind Rick a little deeper his tight entrance convulsing around the large intrusion as his thighs shuddered uncontrollably.

Rick was losing it, the feeling, the tightness. Fucking god, he should have just listened. They could have been home by now, Rick in his garage, Morty doing whatever it was Morty did. Surely, they would't be fucking in a spaceship, a few miles from some sleaze planet.

"You should-" Rick grit his teeth, as he stilled himself, ignoring the tightening and releasing of Morty's entrance which promised to swallow him whole. "You should have just listened to me, Morty." He growled it by his ear, annoyance and a little bit of anger igniting anew in him and with out warning Rick made a decision. 

Morty groaned seeming to writhe at Rick's tone but it turned into a yelp of surprise as Rick finally broke beneath him. He held hard the Morty's hips digging his fingers into the soft flesh as he drove upward burying himself deep into Morty with one hard and bruising thrust. Morty's yelp turned into a loud moan as he completely convulsed on Rick's cock, his body twitching and fidgeting for a solid ten seconds 

Finally, he had gotten what he wanted. 

Rick, however remained relentless pulling out of the limp Morty and thrusting back in hard time and time again. He wanted everything. He wanted Morty to break beneath him, to moan his name, to just listen to him one fucking time.  
Morty leaned back, his shoulders resting against the hard of the steering wheel. He would regret that later but for now the only thing he was feeling was the stretch of Rick's cock as it buried into him. His mouth dangled open, saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth and down his chin. The moans and grunts that he made were unparalleled to the look on Morty's face, the way his eye rolled back in his head. 

Fuck- Rick closed his eyes tighter, his mind telling him to imagine someone else, anyone else but Morty's breathless pants of his name kept him rooted into the reality that he was balls deep in his grandson.

He pulled out again but once again it came short lived as he buried himself deep inside of Morty. The hole greedily clenched around his cock as he continued no longer seated. No, Rick was standing, bent over Morty, supporting him completely on his wobbly make-shift steering wheel, plowing into him was renewed speed and fervor. Morty's legs were pushed upward, dangling on either side of the elder man, bent and useless as they didn't even have the power to wrap around Rick's waist. 

"Rick- rick- Fuck." Morty's words were music to his ears, raining down on him as if they were praise. 

Rick groaned. Surely his fingers were bruising the poor boy's thighs at this point, deep black and blue fingerprints which would serve as future reminders of their shame. Fuck- Morty should have listened. 

He slammed into him hard again, riding him high along the steering wheel and causing a loud yelping moan to rip from the boy's throat. 

"Ha-harder Rick, Please, god, harder." Morty groaned. His hands were searching for some sort of purchase, gripping hard on Rick's shirt. His voice was ragged, blown out and utterly fucked. "I need it so ba-badly, Ri-Rick."

Fuck- His voice was going to drive Rick insane, the high pitched whines which rained down on him. He thrust harder, his own hands now gripping into petal soft flesh of Morty's thighs. As much as Rick hated to admit it, he liked the way the flesh yielded to his grip, the way his sharp fingers dug into the fat as if they were made to be held like this. 

He shouldn't be thinking about his grandson like this but he was FAR beyond worrying about anything else. Rick's focus was and now would remain the way his cock slid ever so deeply into the wet, convulsing hole between him, the way it swallowed him up and as he withdrew it closed tight as if begging him to stay. 

"Morty-" Rick groaned, biting off his name as if it were some kind of curse and the younger man merely responded with a strangled moan, his legs closing tightly around Rick's thin waist. 

Morty was rocking upward, desperately in search of Rick's demanding thrusts and Rick complied, he complied as if it were the only thing he had ever wanted, as if he too had been on the edge of insanity. 

"Deep-deeper, Rick-" Morty whimpered, dirty words drizzling from his lips like molten chocolate and in response his grip tightened, the sudden coil of heat a glaring testimony against Rick's profound endurance, the same one he prided himself in, the one that allowed him to keep going to hours and yet this sixteen year old boy was bringing him to the brink with just his words and tight ass. 

"Fu- Fuck, Shut- Shut up, Morty." He growled, his hand sliding from his position on Morty's thigh, up along the skinny ridges of his chest and toward his throat. Rick didn't mean to look up but when he did his entire body went ridged, his thrust burying deep and hard inside of Morty. 

Holy shit. Morty looked like a sex god, his mouth agape as a thin trail of saliva seemed to be fucked from the inside of it. Rick probably could have handled that, probably could have kept his cool if not for the minuscule moan which tumbled from the boy at Rick's pause.  
"Rick- It's so-" Morty attempted, his head and neck arching back. He was trembling. Rick could feel the shake of Morty's thighs, the quiver deep inside of him as he flexed around Rick's cock. 

He had to chew back the heat which erupted inside of him, the tight coil which wound it's self around Rick's guts. Fuck- he was so close to coming, he could taste it. 

Rick shook his head, hoping whatever small amount of hesitation would be enough to give him some sort of edge over his own restraint but it did nothing but coax the fire. 

"Ri-" Morty began, his voice coming as a complaint but his hips a seductive reminder that Rick was still buried into him.  
He thrust again, this time filling him quick and fast, deep, deeper than any time before. Morty's moan seemed to echo all around him and Rick groan joined. Fuck, if he would have known having sex with Morty would be like this he would have- NO, that's fucked up. Morty was Rick's grandson and not in the metaphorical sense, but the literal sense, this was incest in it's finest.  
Rick's fingers dug deeper determined to mark Morty, determined to satisfy whatever part of him felt the need to mark Morty. Rick slammed into him again, the wet squish filling the cabin as the slick poured down Morty's thigh, willing begging for more.  
He was telling himself to hold on, to drag it out, to- Morty's body suddenly arched up violently in response to one of Rick's ragged thrusts. Rick paused, his eyes widening as once again Morty was possessed by whatever sex god. His body went rigid, stiff, his eyelids fluttering. 

Ropes of come spilled from Morty's sudden trembling and convulsing body, his fingers reaching out gripping hard onto Rick's jacket as if he were clinging on to life. Morty's orgasm was silent but harsh, his mouth dangling open as if the sounds were strangled out of him. 

He was tight, entirely too tight and Rick was gritting his teeth to the heat, begging himself to hold on but Morty was too much, it was all too much. Rick buried himself once more deep, deeper inside of Morty as he came hard, filling him as much as possible.  
Rick was left breathless, his body weak as he slumped back onto the driver seat. Everything about his body was hazy with the intense post orgasm numb.

Morty came down from the steering wheel slowly, his body as if controlled by muscle memory moved forward sinking into Rick's lap, head nestled beneath his chin softly. 

"Fuck-" Was all Rick managed to breathe as he dropped his head back, his arm coming to wrap around Morty's waist loosely, "Morty, I- uh- you need to-" He attempted to tell Morty to move, to have him slide to the side so he could dress himself but the soft huff in response, the delicate breathing against his chest said otherwise. 

Rick glanced down beyond the head of soft brown curls. Morty was asleep, his long lashes brushing his pinkened cheeks softly. Morty looked like an angel when he was like this. If only he was always this way, not that mouthy little- A sigh escaped Rick as he leaned down and just for a second placed the softest kiss against Morty's forehead. 

Today had been the worst. Rick never managed to get what he was looking for, Morty was a little shit and worst of all-  
Rick shook his head as he caressed Morty's back gently, not worst of all. He had never intended on having sex with Morty and frankly, never intends on telling any one of it. His best hopes were that Morty would forget but he knew that wasn't how aphrodisiacs work. 

Another sigh escaped him. This was another thing he would have to deal with later but until then they would just stay like this.  
It wasn't like they had anywhere to be or anything to take.


	2. Crisis.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morty awakens to bruises and the aftermath of the pollen. He's confused and his memory is lacking-
> 
> He wants answers. He wants to talk to Rick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took once again forever to write. I was going to post it all in one go but meh- I am going to update it into 3 parts. This next one won't take months, INFACT I will attempt to end it this saturday, the 10th. <3 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and I LOVE reading you comments. You can not imagine how happy they make me!
> 
> *Trigger warning: Mentions of possible rape, etc. Read at your own risk.

Morty awoke to a tingling that bubbled through out his limbs. It was strange almost as if he had just fought off the worst sickness his body had ever been through. He felt cold and yet a sheen of sweat still clung, drying fast to his pale skin. 

Shifting to the side Morty tried to ignore the clammy feeling but a strong and sudden shiver deemed his attempts unworthy. He grit his teeth. Even the action of shivering brought pinpricks of pain along his spine and arms. As he laid there in his bed, stiffening his body to the deep-seated ache. Morty couldn't nail down the reason for the pain. It was almost as if he were waking from surgery still drugged from the anesthesia and all his brain had to register was something somewhere hurt.

Morty tested it, his hand attempting to raise only to find the action somewhat uncomfortable. It hurt to move, to breathe. What the hell had even happened yesterday? Was it yesterday? 

Somewhere inside of himself he knew that he had been out with his grandfather, but that was common sense. There had never been a day as of recent where the two of them weren't jetting off to some remote section of the galaxy. But this, this was a strange knowing, as if he could feel the memories in his bones, but when it came to his brain it was just gone, cloudy, like a dust storm obscuring everything and anything in it path. The remnants of his memory seemed to leave nothing but a hazy view and blobbed out shapes in the deepest recesses of his mind. He tried hard not to focus on that as for whatever reason it brought on Morty's anxiety. His heart beat instantly pattered in his chest. Morty had to take a few deep breaths before allowing his eyes to close in the darkness that surrounded him, but like always, it did nothing. His mind was always working against him, always running and talking and-

He needed to calm down. The feelings that were racing through him were just worry and everything else that seemed to build Morty from the ground up. Hell, he had learned when he was fourteen that he had an amazing talent for overthinking and over-analyzing everything to no real result. So this, this was just that, worry, a useless panic in the wake of a forgetful night. 

Morty squeezed his fists closed and attempted another shaky breath. 

"Just- Just breathe, Morty." He told himself through the sharp intake and the stuttering release. He allowed his palms to unfurl a new chant bubbling to mind. 

It's over. It's over. It's over-

He had to be thankful for that, right? 

Morty didn't open his eyes as instead he focused on the dull thud which wormed its way through his legs and thighs. He hated the feeling. It was like it was there as a reminder of something that he couldn't quite piece together.

He lifted his fingertips. His eyes still closed as if he were testing himself, as if to see if they would react or if the pain had even reached the simplest of his limbs.   
And there was nothing. 

Morty's hands didn't hurt surprisingly. No, only the pulsating of his legs reminded him that he was still somewhat alive. Yet there was something sickeningly surreal about it all; himself here, memoryless. It felt fake, dirty- the fog which rolled through his mind only added to the fantasy that maybe this was a simulation or something worse.   
He flinched to the word dirty. His body suddenly reacting to that word as if it were something uttered in his ear. Goosebumps prickled his dry, pale flesh and he shook his head quickly to the dawning sensation which cruised his limbs. Morty didn't want to think about that again, experience that word or even traverse the realms of WHY it had brought on such a strong and instant reaction. 

With his hand, Morty blindly smoothed it along his goose-pimpled flesh. He had to calm down, to take control once again. He had control. Morty balled his fists. He had control, didn't he? 

Of what exactly?

The gears were churning again and like most things in Morty's life, he couldn't stop his thoughts from dredging through is mind and there went that little demon in his head again cooking up another batch of anxiety to feed to his weak body.

"It's over. It doesn't matter. You're home." He focused on the sounds around him, the soft silence that blanketed the house. It felt relaxed. it felt normal. 

Morty liked normal.

The room, his room, he was assuming from the familiar smell and the softness of his mattress was washed in night; the dark swallowing everything aside from the gentle green glow of his alarm clock on his right. 

Morty was able to take a breath in that instant, a calming one as he pushed himself back a little deeper into the mountain of pillows behind him. There was something nice in the soft green glow. It reminded him that he wasn't in complete darkness and he was finally home. Whatever had happened the day before was over or so he hoped, but once again as Morty had allowed himself to relax, another wave of anxiety shook through him.

He just wanted to go back to sleep, to forget it all and talk to his Grandpa about it in the morning; That however seemed all too rational for Morty as he focused on the minor details of everything. There was something all too strange about this situation, something that settled deep in his gut that told him something was off. 

The pain a constant reminder that whatever had happened yesterday had been all too real. He steeled himself against the waves of aches which crawled his spine and hung heavy in his arms and joints. 

This was insane. Morty's breath was stuttering, coming quicker as his mind was beginning to race. Honestly though, as he laid in his bed attempting to make peace with his brain he knew it was only a matter of time. There was no use fighting it. For as long as Morty could remember he had always been one for overthinking, always analyzing and wondering why situations were the way they were. He kind of had to be when he was Rick's one and only sidekick. 

There was and always had been a danger into being close to his Grandfather. He couldn't even begin to count the numerous times where his life was placed carelessly on the line and he had just agreed as if it meant nothing, but that wasn't what had happened yesterday, right? Morty wasn't the same boy that just readily agreed to anything and everything Rick threw his way. No, he had grown weary and afraid, bitter toward a lot of their missions after being left, spent and bruised. Morty began to distrust a lot of what Rick said to the core of his own being, taking his own judgment over that of the self-proclaimed god's. But the questions were bubbling over now in his mind as he laid stone still among the blankets and pillows once again succumbing to the feeling that this wasn't real. It couldn't be.

Had he saved himself? Had he escaped on his own? Why was he here now? Where was Rick?

A strange twinge tingled in his stomach at the thought of Rick, a tickling feeling the spread momentarily throughout his fingers and legs. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before but Morty bit it off and chose to focus on the larger problem at hand. 

There was something off about all of this, in everything and once again his mind began dredging up questions that he had no answers for, questions that only brought on the ever present and breath shortening fear that something wasn't right. But once again Morty couldn't help but entertain the thoughts as they popped into his head. His eyes squeezing closed as he attempted grab hold of the spiking, quaking nervousness that settled in his stomach, a feeling that was too much like home and hell at the same time.

Something wasn't right. If he had come off of a mission with Rick why was he back in his bed? Rick never put him in his bed, never even cared enough half the time to take him out of the ship or off the garage floor, so why this time?

He took in a shaky breath. Morty didn't have answers, not that he usually did, but this was frightening. It was as if he were stuck in another simulation. His hands closed shakily, he had to get ahold of himself. His sharp breaths were beginning to burn his lungs. 

No, he had to focus. 

Just breathe.

It's over. 

Morty calmed himself as much as he could. His mind falling silent just enough that he could be consumed with the sounds around him. The silence of the house, a car drifting lazily down his street outside...birds.

Outside of his window the soft cheeps of birds sounded quietly despite the time of night and now Morty could only assume it was sometime in the early morning or maybe that the birds were broken. 

Everything else in his life didn't make sense. Why would the birds?

Through the pain Morty managed to roll onto his side and glance at his alarm clock. His mind remained sleep-hazy but it was starting to lift the more he forced his bruised and battered body to move. 

Their mission had to have been rough. Sure, Morty suffered some pain after most missions but this- this was a different kind of pain, a uncomfortable stiffness in his joints like when he worked out that one time before meeting Jessica. That was the first and last time Morty did one-hundred squats in a row for anybody.

A soft groan bubbled to his lips and he squinted, ignoring the way his legs were like anchors. Finally he focused on his original mission, the clock.

5am. 

Morty hesitated, confused. Sure, he knew it had to have been late but this, this didn't make any sense. It was falling dark on that alien planet but 5am? It couldn't have taken them that long to get home, not with how fast Rick's ship was. 

Moving onto his back, Morty stared up at the ceiling. The dark seemed more intrusive now than comforting. It made Morty feel blind and lost in his moment of trying to recollect. He hated this, hated feeling lost and right now, he was adrift in space with no anchor but the pain in his limbs. Fuck, Morty hated anxiety. He cursed it as now the silence in the house became nerve-wracking.

He had to focus. Had to think about what happened last night, about where Rick was, how he-

Again the familiar tingling feeling shook through his core, spreading beneath his skin like fire. It burned there until he shook it off with another strong shiver. Morty didn't want to question why the thought of Rick made his whole body feel like it was coming undone, why his toes instantly curled and his eyes wanted to flutter shut. 

No, that was something he would have to focus on later, for now he had to remember. 

They had gone to the planet in question, the one that... Pieces of his memory remained hazy still. 

A frown pulled his lips downward as now Morty was staring at the black ceiling blindly. He couldn't even remember why they had gone to that alien planet. Determined now and with balled fists, Morty attempted to focus on the details in his shot memory. What color were the plants, the aliens. but nothing came up, no details, no sizes, shapes, there was nothing. Why didn't he even remember what the mission was? 

Tears threatened to spring to his eyes an all too recent trigger of Morty's he had come to hate. Maybe he would just get up and talk to Rick about it. 

Fuck- Morty took in a shaky breath. He couldn't even think about Rick without feeling dizzy and the thought of seeing him made his stomach twist in knots. 

Something was definitely wrong. 

Maybe, he was killed on the planet? It wouldn't be completely unlike Rick to allow him to die if it meant completing the mission. Rick had done it before. Hell, he had even laughed when it happened.

Would Rick really have allowed him to die? They hadn't had a fight before the mission, so- Morty attempted to recollect anything from the morning before but failed with a quiet groan. It was like digging through sand. 

Anger spiked inside of his stomach for a moment only to die as another shot of pain climbed his back. 

God, it felt as if he was hit by a truck. Morty shook his head. It was too early in the morning to be angry and the last time he died he had woken up on the concrete in Rick's garage. This was different. Morty had never woken up in his own bed after a mission. 

Morty once again resigned himself to recalling the mission. It was very uncommon for him to forget unless- 

Morty's eyes flew open and he yanked up from the bed sitting up suddenly. Pain shot instantly through his spine and legs, but he ignored it for his new found solution. The only time he forgot about missions was when Rick took his memories. Did he- His eyes shifted down toward his own blanket rumpling them in his fingers. Anger began to fill him, his anxiety burying once again deep into his stomach.

What could have happened that Rick would take his memory? What did he do?

No- No, he would remember. He would make himself remember because Rick didn't own him. Rick didn't get to decide whether or not he would forget things and IF Rick did take his memories. He would demand them back. No, he would force Rick to return them because they belonged to him. 

Tossing his feet to the side,he rose from the bed, but not without noting the extreme difficulty in which he did so. Morty's legs felt like jelly. He would figure this out, come to a conclusion even if it meant asking Rick himself. 

He steeled himself to the sickening flutter of his stomach.

With small fists clenched by his side and he huffed. Morty didn't know who Rick thought he was, but he was going to put him in his place. 

Making his way blindly toward his bedroom door Morty was pumping himself up with tough talk. He was going to do this and tell Rick that and he would be damned if- Mort yelped as he stumbled, tripping over clothing and god knows whatever else he left on his bedroom floor. He cursed quietly, glaring and chastising himself for being a mess.   
Fuck it hurt, his legs, his arms, the back of his thighs, his back, his ass, everything was tight. Morty resisted the urge to groan as he opened his bedroom door. The darkness of the hallway greeted him and he shuffled toward the light switch. 

It was blinding. 

Morty hissed as he shielded his eyes. He should have known better but god he needed to just feel like he wasn't dying. Opening an eye, Morty drew his hand back in horror. A huge bruise marred his pale white wrist deep and purple. It almost looked as if he had been restrained.

Morty quickly brought up his other arm now gaping at the various bruises and cuts which accompanied his wrist. 

"What the hell?" He managed to mumble out. Stumbling down the hall, Morty turned into the bathroom and flicked on the light hurriedly. He didn't know what to expect, but as he came to look at his own face in the mirror, Morty stared. 

He looked...

normal. His face was pretty free of bruising and despite the appearance of dark, sleepless circles beneath his eyes ( A recent staple since Rick decided missions should last all night). 

Allowing a soft sigh to escape his mouth, Morty traveled his eyes along his cheeks and jawline all looking normal and full not broken or bruised. It was only when he came to his throat that he began to notice the beginning of marks along the milk white flesh. They were fresh and purple, brilliant against his all too pale skin and that was only the beginning of them. 

Dots and hues of deep reds and blossoming petals of black and blue marks marked all too apparently against his neck, almost as if someone had grabbed him by it and held on. Morty sucked his lower lip into his mouth allowing his teeth to worry the flesh haphazardly. 

He was gaping now. His hand reaching up and wrapping around his own throat to follow where those bruises made all too apparent finger marks. They were too large; the hand print much bigger and long-fingered than his own. 

Tilting his head from side to side he felt numb but more so confused. If Rick had taken his memory...why wouldn't he have taken his bruises? 

Morty blinked at himself as he tried to piece together whatever kind of puzzle these mysterious black and blue marks prompted. It was obvious he was in some kind of huge battle but where was Rick? Surely, he wouldn't have allowed him to be hurt this badly. 

Reaching up, Morty cautiously brought the collar of his yellow shirt down. A gasp instantly escaped his lips as he feasted his eyes on what appeared to be finger prints, and...hickeys dotting and lining the skin. 

Instantly all of the numbness left him, left him like water spilling to the floor. A quick cold climbed from his toes, filling him, filling him like death. Morty was having a full blown panic attack now, his eyes squeezing shut as he leaned forward bracing himself against the counter. It hit him like a swift blow to the gut. These bruises weren't because he was in some kind of heroic battle of wills. No, someone had- Someone had touched him, had their mouth on his throat. 

Who? 

Why couldn't he remember?

He felt sick. Morty gagged as he leaned closer to the sink, his head swaying to bump against the glass.

Why didn't Rick stop them? Rick had stopped King Jellybean or at least- He had to rationalize this. He couldn't just blame Rick for something he didn't even know or understand. The urge to vomit was rising in his throat, the ball of nausea twisting in his gut. 

"M-morty?" Summer's voice traveled from outside of the bathroom. It sounded soft and tired, nothing like her usual tone. "Morty, are you in there?"

He couldn't find his voice but managed to choke out a 'mm' sound as he turned on the faucet. The sickness was rising in his throat again and he reached up running his fingers along his bruised flesh. It didn't hurt but he-

"Morty, are you okay?" Summer suddenly spoke, reminding Morty that she was still outside of the room. "I- Uh, Grandpa Rick brought you home last night, you were in pretty bad shape. He uh- He said to keep an eye on you. Are you...Are you sick, Morty?" Her fingers thrummed for a second against the wood of the door. 

Rick had brought him home? Morty looked up at himself in the mirror. Confusion once again washed over him and he sucked in a settling breath between his teeth.   
Why did it seem so abnormal for Rick to have brought him home? There was a first time for everything, right? 

Morty's eyes caught on another bright bruise which laid high on his throat, a hickey sucked there by some unforeseeable man or woman. The nausea fought to rise again. 

"Mort-"

"I'm fine." He answered, cutting Summer off. "I'm just- uh- I'm just gonna get a bath, or shower. Don-don't worry about me." God, he hated how weak his voice sounded, how troubled and wrung out. 

Morty waited for an answer, but only the soft pat of feet leaving alerted him of Summer's departure. Another sigh burst from his lips and he reached down now pulling his shirt completely from his body. 

More bruises. Morty couldn't help but study them with a sick sort of interest. The sight alone was enough to twist his stomach in knots and his anger to ignite a new once more.  
Where had Rick been?

Morty stroked his fingers along the plains of the flesh, studying the weirdly smooth skin that was tarnished, marred with harsh marks from some unknown hand or mouth. A small sob built in his throat, lodging itself there like a knot. 

fuck- he just wanted to talk to Rick- He needed to be grounded. He needed to be told everything was going to be okay and yet-

Rick's name, the very thought of Rick brought a burn through him like something he couldn't even begin to explain. Much to Morty's disgust his dick gave a half-hearted jump. 

"No-" Morty breathed as if talking to his dick was completely normal, but maybe in the circumstance of it attempting to get hard at thought of his grandfather, it just was?

What the hell had even happened? So many questions were once again bubbling in Morty's mind, so many scenarios that just didn't seem to fit the bruises. 

He jumped when he realized he was staring at himself in the mirror. Morty looked down instantly, the look in his own eyes too panicky to be anything soothing. He stared at his feet before releasing and clenching his fists. Every part of him wanted to fly recklessly into Rick's room demand answers and yet... Morty knew there would be nothing to come from that. It was late and Rick was probably passed out. 

He was always passed out after missions. 

Slowly the breath Morty didn't realize he was holding exhaled and he slumped forward slightly. This helplessness, this feeling of defeat, Morty was all too used to it. He had to abide by everyone else's rules and the only time he had control was when he gave it to Rick. 

Forcing his fingers back through his hair, Morty moved to turn on the water to temp. He was just bathe for now, forget everything and maybe, just maybe by sunrise he would wake up from this nightmare. 

\---

Time had passed so quickly or maybe Morty had fallen asleep in the tub but the sound of soft knocking on the door told him someone was up. Pulling his chin from the water, Morty stiffened. 

"Y-yeah?" He called out, the sloshing of the now chilled bathwater quaking over his knees. Morty paused waiting for an answer. 

"Oh hey, uh- Morty, It's- It's your dad. I was just, uh I need to get in there. Are you gonna be much longer?" His fathers voice greeted him through the doorway, it sounded sleepy but a little urgent. 

He was already lifting himself from the water. The pain had subsided slightly at this point. Perhaps the hot bath had melted away the small aches and the heaviness he felt in his limbs but nothing took away the bruises or the feeling of dread. 

After dressing, Morty exited quickly, side-stepping his father as he often did. Jerry wasn't always the most approving of Rick and his missions. 

"Hey, big guy, so how about-" Jerry began to say, his voice cheery.

Morty cut his off with a shake of his head as he walked down the hall, "I'm gonna talk to Grandpa Rick."

"Oh." Jerry responded but Morty missed anything else of the conversation as he had shut his bedroom door. 

The room was illuminated now, the hushed glow of morning so much more comforting than the black of night. Morty sat on his bed absently, his head tilting back as he once again stared at his ceiling unseeingly. 

He was going to talk to Rick, but what did that entail? What was he going to get out of talking to Rick? The truth? Did he want to know the truth?

Morty glared down at his bruised wrists, his fists closing as he rose. Of course, he wanted to know the truth. He wanted to know why this happened to him and where Rick was, why he didn't stop them. There were so many questions needing answers and yet Morty just wanted...wanted to see Rick. To have the comfort of looking at his stupid drunken face and knowing that everything was okay. 

Fuck, the tears were coming. Like sharp pinpricks the water dotted and lined his eyes until his vision blurred. Morty choked out a sob and he crumbled forward in on himself. Why did Rick let this happen? Why did Rick allow someone else to touch him? The tears were bubbling down his cheeks, streaking in wet lines until they dripped hot and angry on his fists. 

He just wanted answers.


End file.
